


Observational

by ThePraxianWeasleyGeek



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4646037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePraxianWeasleyGeek/pseuds/ThePraxianWeasleyGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can't help it, really - but it's never just mindless staring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Observational

**Author's Note:**

> Since Rumbelle seized me by the throat a couple of weeks ago I thought I should give something back to appease it. Especially after the dialogue for this exchange hit me in the middle of London.

She was curled up against his side, cheek to shoulder with chestnut locks spilling every which way. He couldn't see her feet from here, but he knew that they were bare; and slightly grubby around the edges from earlier, when she'd come running round the side of the house to dredge him up from the basement without thinking to put on shoes.

Her blue-eyed gaze was darkened by the shadow of her lashes, which fluttered slightly as she struggled to stay awake and focused on the television. This movie night thing had been her idea, after all - she was clearly making an effort to have her cake and eat it. Gold wouldn't mind terribly if she did fall asleep, though, which gave him pause. Here he was, perfectly happy to let her renege on their deal: one day of undisturbed and un-complained-about work on his magic, in exchange for... this.

Honestly, Rumple didn't know what he was actually sacrificing here. Not that he was particularly unhappy about that. It was hard to be unhappy at all with Belle snuggled up to him like this; sprawled over his good leg and most of his torso with her own legs brought up to claim half the sofa. He himself was sat at an angle that his back would probably regret in the morning, but with an arm draped loosely over Belle's stomach and the scent of her perfume enveloping him in turn he considered the risk to be worth it.

Truth be told, he hadn't paid as much attention to whatever film they were watching as she probably would've liked him to - but, he assured himself, that was her fault anyway. Who was she, to push further into his life than anyone else had dared tread, with her dreams of adventure and her stubbornness and her vast, inexplicable love for him? Especially in possession of such beauty as hers? How could he be expected to do anything but gaze at her and marvel, completely baffled and eternally grateful, every time she entered the room?

Belle seemed to sense that his thoughts were wandering from the situation at hand. She stirred, turning her head and blinking slowly to banish the sleep gathering in her eyes.

"Do you even know what's going on in this movie?"

"I'm afraid not," he admitted, pressing a kiss to the point where her neck met her shoulder and hoping he sounded contrite enough that she'd concede to stay where she was.

"And why's that?" Belle asked. She stretched, and Rumple was struck by a sudden panic at the thought of her leaving.

"I was... I was distracted," he said, hastily tightening his hold around her waist for good measure.

"By what?" The question was disbelieving, but also distinctly rhetorical. She settled back down again and Rumple inwardly sighed with relief.

Considering how very relieved that metaphorical sigh had been, he wasn't quite sure why he decided to speak up again two minutes later.

"... Belle?"

"Hm?"

"Have... have you ever been told just how stunning you are?"

He felt the flush as her face heated against his own skin, but that was the only clue she gave about her response to his comment.

"Mm... yes, I think so," she replied, and he could hear the grin blossoming in her voice. "Several times. All by the same man."

Rumple felt a smile of his own form and knew full well that she could feel it too, against the skin of her neck.

"Oh? And who is this man?" The smirk migrated upwards and became a playful snarl as an earlobe was captured. "Tell me his name," Rumple breathed against her, "and I'll have his heart out."

"You're too late," Belle informed him with a laugh. She shifted around to face him head on, kneeling and slipping her arms about his shoulders until their noses brushed together.

"I already stole it."


End file.
